


Guns and Guitars

by zzoaozz



Category: Gravitation
Genre: M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzoaozz/pseuds/zzoaozz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiroshi and K grow closer through the chaos that is Gravitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. R&R

Hiroshi scowled at the phone as if it personally were to blame for his current situation. "All alone on a Saturday night, I can't believe it!"

"Huh? Why are you alone?"

He jumped as something cold and hard jabbed him in the back and K's jaunty voice hit his ears. "Dammit, stop doing that!" He spun around pushing the barrel of the revolver away from him. "What is it with you and guns anyway?" 

"You have your guitars, I have my guns." He laughed easily with no more than a hint of the manic edge that usually laced his voice.

"Guitars don't usually scare the crap out of people."

"Oh yeah? What about that time Shuichi tried to play Ironman on one and broke three strings?"

"Hmm, point taken." 

"So why are you alone tonight?"

"Well, I got dumped by Ayaka in a lovely answering machine message, Shuichi and Yuki are going to a movie and three's a crowd and everyone else I know is either paired up or too wrapped up in themselves to have time for me."

"Ah feeling sorry for yourself, then?"

Hiro's scowl returned and he had to resist punching the cheerful American right in the nose. "Nevermind."

"Don't sulk, kiddo. Grab your coat. I'm heading for a little R&R myself. I'll buy you a beer."

Hiro perked up at that, "seriously?"

"Yeah, I'm not paired up as you put it and you may have my undivided attention tonight."

Hiro paused at that wondering if K's undivided attention was a good thing then shrugged slinging his leather bomber jacket over his shoulder and falling in beside the older man as he strode purposefully through the glass doors of the studio toward the parking garage. His eyes widened as the reached the director's car. It was a long, lean, bright red corvette. 

"You like her?" The sly grin was infectious lifting his spirits from the vicinity of his shoelaces where they had been for the last few weeks. 

"It suits you."

He laughed loudly opening the door for Hiro before going around and sliding in behind the steering wheel. He laughed again as it bawled a tire pulling out and Hiro joined in with a low chuckle.

The night turned out to be a real eye opener. The blond American relaxed as hard and fast and passionately as he worked. They closed three clubs, danced themselves to the point of exhaustion, drank enough beer and booze for six people, and consumed a ton of appetizers and snacks. Hiro discovered that K was open and honest and totally shameless. He did not need to flirt, girls and guys both seemed to fling themselves at him and at Hiro since he was with him. Anytime it looked like someone might recognize the guitarist from Bad Luck, he diverted them and got them clear with uncanny skill. At five in the morning, they found themselves standing at the parking garage gate laughing madly because they were both too drunk to remember where they parked.

"I live close, we'll walk to my place." K punched him in the shoulder playfully. "Let's go."

"Ow, I can't walk, the sidewalk keeps moving."

"That's you, goofy!" He laughed madly.

"Oh! Yeah, right!" Hiro laughed too and leaned heavily against K's broad chest. "Carry me."

"You sound like Shuichi now."

He did an incredible imitation of his best friend clasping his hands in front of him and gazing up with huge puppy dog eyes, "please, please, please, please, please, please, please!"

K had to sit down he was laughing so hard. Hiro tumbled forward into his lap giggling madly. "We are so drunk." 

"You have a point there. You must be pretty smart." K stood up lifting Hiro like he weighed nothing and setting out toward his apartment.

Hiro awoke to sunlight splashing through the window and falling across his face. He was wearing his t-shirt and underwear and laying in an absolutely enormous bed. The mattress was firm and the sheets high quality cotton, the blankets were soft and warm and smelled of some spring scented fabric softner. Birds sang outside the large window with white lace curtains that flapped lazily in a slight breeze. The air was warm and smelled of flowers, lilac maybe, or freesia, something like that, he was not sure which and cordite. 

"Cordite?" He sat up in bed and wished he had not. His head spun and his stomach lurched. "Lay here or go puke, lay here or go puke, lay here or..." He paled, "bathroom, must find bathroom!"

Fortunately, the first door he tried was the master bath. He was still kneeling before the porcelin god when a hatefully chipper voice spoke from behind. 

"How bad is it?" 

A hand gathered his hair back from his face and held it out of the way as another wave of retching tore through him setting his head to pounding like a jackhammer. He groaned but bravely tried to shake it off.

"Shh, get it all out, Hiro. You'll feel better soon."

A large hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. When he was certain it was over, he sat back slumping against K and not caring if it was appropriate or not. "Remind me never to do that again." A chuckle vibrated against his back.


	2. Spin Control

K looked at the paper then up into Schuichi's tearful, apologetic eyes. Down to the paper, up to rich brown eyes and innocent blue eyes that fully expected him to make it better. Down to the paper, down further to Sakano's crumpled and twitching form on the floor. He wanted to sigh, but he was the spin doctor and it was time to operate. "You know, you really should shave your legs if you're going to wear a skirt that short." The thud of the lead singer hitting the floor was only slightly gratifying. "Go practice and don't worry about this."

He retreated to his office to come up with a plan to minimize the damage of the newspaper having caught such a compromising image of their star. He steepled his hands and rested his forehead on them hoping for inspiration. He was still there when night fell. A light knock startled him out of his reverie. 

The door opened and Hiroshi peered in, "are you armed?"

"Always."

"Dangerous?"

"You know it."

Hiro chuckled and slipped in. "You didn't get out to lunch so I brought something back for you." He slid a take out bag over to the golden haired man. 

"Thanks, you didn't have to do that."

"I know." Hiro gave him a teasing smirk and dropped down in front of him taking one of the cartons of noodles for himself. "So, what's our plan?"

"Plan?" He dug into a box of sesame chicken. 

"To turn this bad publicity into something beneficial."

"No need to worry about it. It's all under control."

"You're going to resort to violence aren't you?"

K's chopsticks paused midway to his mouth and he wore an expression rather like a deer in the headlights. "Eh, what makes you think that?"

Hiro's smirk became more pronounced, "I've been learning to read you. You're not really any harder than Shuichi, just different."

K blinked twice. "Why would you do that?" 

Hiro simply ran his tongue along the length of his chopstick giving K an intense stare that made him sweat. He had to shake his head to clear it enough to eat the bite he still held. His eyes followed Hiro warily.

"Tomorrow night is Halloween in America isn't it? Are you going to dress up as an anti-gun pacifist."

K started to remark then suddenly grinned laughing joyously.

Hiroshi sat up quickly, that dangerous edge was back in his laughter. 

"Good thinking, Hiro! This calls for a celebration!"

"Huh?"

He placed a quick call to his buddy in the press. "Yes, I do have an exclusive on the picture, one that will make the herald look like idiots at that. Hai, I agree. Aa, he was coming to the office Halloween party and he was late. He didn't think before he ran here. Yes. That's all it was. No, he didn't win first place, we gave that award to the guitarist, Hiroshi." His blue eyes twinkled at Hiro over the receiver. "Oh he dressed as one of those exotic dancers, feathers, fishnet hose, high heels..."

Hiro fell out of his chair onto the floor and sat there with a look of shocked outrage plastered on his face. 

K exchanged a few more pleasantries then hung up smirking down at the guitarist. "It's for the good of the team."

Hiro snorted, "yea right, you just thought it was funny." 

"Heh, I guess I did. You'll have to let me make it up to you. Want to catch a movie?"

"A movie? Sure, I guess. You're buying right?"

"Correct."

Hiro saw no harm in it so he agreed. An hour later he found himself sitting beside K in a near deserted theatre watching a double feature of old horror movies. He woke up with his head resting on K's shoulder and his hand curled around the leather of his gun belt. He noted sleepily that K smelled good, he was wearing a cologne he could almost but not quite place. He poked K in the side of his belly noting the strong abs. 

"Hey, are you asleep?"

"No, but you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks, K. Would you mind giving me a lift home? I'm too sleepy to go back for my bike."

"Sure." K stood up helping him to his feet.

Hiro swayed a little then gained his footing. "Sorry I wasn't much company."

"I didn't mind, you needed the rest." 

Hiro looked up at him, brown eyes going dark and unreadable for a moment. "Maybe I could crash at your place and you could drive me in the morning." 

"Sure." K took his elbow and guided him out to his car feeling a little nervous about the smirking smile on his lips.


	3. Friendly Warning

"So what exactly is going on between you and that American?" Yuki's cool voice was vague as always, but Hiro knew that there was something in the writer that was sharp and hard and missed very little. Schuichi knew something about that edge that he had not even told his best friend and nothing he could do so far had been able to pry it out of him. He could only hope for the singer's sake that that razor sharp core would never turn against one who loved it so dearly. 

"What do you mean?" He asked innocently.

"I saw you leaving his house together on my way to meet with my publisher last week."

"Oh that, we caught a late movie and and I crashed there instead of going back to the studio for my bike."

"Hm."

"What do you mean by that? What, do you think we're trying to take over the world or something?" 

Yuki looked away from him staring moodily at the painting over the couch and tilting his head as if to listen to his young lover puttering around in the kitchen. Then he spoke softly for Hiro's ears only, "just be careful, Americans don't think the same way we do. Trust me, I know."

His brow furrowed and he leaned closer, "how do you mean?" 

"They can't always see what should be plain as day, then when they do notice it, they read it wrong and react badly." 

"I don't understand you." 

"Look, you idiot. You like him, but he may not understand how you like him. If he does figure it out, he may hurt you, maybe physically, but most likely emotionally. If he does happen to return the interest, he may not think of it as anything more than having fun. A lot of Americans are that way."

He paled then reddened, "it isn't what you think. We're just friends. That's all."

If Yuki had meant to reply, it was interrupted by a loud cry of triumph from the kitchen then his friend was standing in front of them both brandishing the most horrifying concoction of ice cream, fruit, cake, candy bars, rice pudding, and potato chips he had ever seen all garnished with at least half a can of whipped cream, the other half was in Schuichi's hair, on his face and clothes, and sliding down his arms. The cigarette fell from Yuki's lips to burn out on the tile floor adding another round black burn to a growing pattern of identical marks.

Hiroshi made it through the rest of the night without any further warning from Yuki. His stomach was churning by the time he left but his friend was beaming and that made it worth it. At least he thought that made it worth it, sometimes he was not so sure. He stopped at a light and put his booted feet down. It was quiet and dark and the wind off the ocean promised rain to come. The red light stared placidly at him while he turned over his thoughts looking for a way to get a handle on them. 

Was he attracted to K? Yes, he certainly was. Was K attracted to him? Now that was the question that he needed to answer. He was bisexual and had been for as long as he remembered. Oddly enough, most musicians he knew were. Maybe it was just part of the rock n roll lifestyle or maybe it was that people who were that way gravitated to the entertainment business. He had seen K flirt with men but he had also seen him flirt with women and even old grannies who ate it up as much as the young people did. It was part of what he did, publicity, damage control, promotions. He frowned thoughtfully. K would do anything for the good of the band, babysitting a depressed guitarist was nothing beside hauling Schuichi and Yuki back from America at gun point. An impatient beep reminded him that the light had turned green. He peeled out and headed for home too lost in thought to notice the black van that pulled from the curb to follow him.


End file.
